Promises Made of Glass
by Myaru
Summary: FE10, pre-game - Sephiran returns from a long journey on the eve of Sanaki's thirteenth birthday, and promises are made that will never be kept.


**Promises Made of Glass  
By: Amber Michelle**

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**Disclaimer:** Fire Emblem is copyrighted by Intelligent Systems and Nintendo. I'm not getting any money out of this, just satisfaction~

_I kept trying to make it platonic and it wouldn't quite happen. Thirteen is not a 100% innocent age, anyway. Originally posted to Livejournal on November 9, 2008. Answer to the 30 Kisses theme 'candy.'_

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At half-past ten Sanaki was huddled in a chair by her fireplace, already in her nightgown and wrapped in a quilt to battle the autumn chill. Rain splashed onto the stone balcony outside and tapped against the windows. News came that Sephiran had returned, and she made herself wait, trying to read an essay on judicial procedure; he would need time to settle in, to eat, perhaps to bathe or change, and he would put all of that off if she rushed to his rooms. She hadn't been on many long journeys - there was Serenes, and Persis, and once to Melior - and she wouldn't have wanted to be seen fresh out of the saddle. But when she realized she was reading the same paragraph over and over again, she abandoned the essay and went to wrap herself in a heavily-lined robe and comb her hair back.

_Shouldn't_ _we wait until tomorrow_? Sigrun asked when she exited to the antechamber. _He's bound to be tired and it's so late_, but Sanaki waved her off. The next line would surely be 'you should go to bed.' She wasn't a child.

They took the servants' stairs down to the third floor and followed the hidden corridors to his rooms. She sprinted the last few yards and went in without knocking. "Sephiran!"

The outer room was empty, the fire low, only one lamp lit, but light spilled out from the bedroom when he opened his door and looked out, a comb in hand and his hair draped over his shoulder, gleaming and wet. "Your majesty--"

He looked fine - very tired, shadows beneath his eyes, and his lips looked dry. Sanaki padded quickly forward and wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing her face into his robe. "You took so long." The silk was damp against her cheek, and his hair cold to the touch. His arm curved around her back and she looked up. "I thought something happened to you."

Sephiran's lips turned up. "Just the weather." He pressed his empty hand against her hair, combing his fingers down with a murmured apology, then pulled out of her embrace. "Give me a moment to dress, and I'll be right out."

She clasped her hands behind her back and let him close the door. Sigrun was right - she should have waited. It would probably be appropriate to apologize, but he should have been back days ago, and Sephiran was never late. Zelgius was with him, but the general couldn't fight a storm or a hurricane, and she kept thinking _what if, what if, what if_ - what if it wasn't the weather, but they were attacked by bandits, or slavers, which would be worse, or ravens, because Kilvas had absolutely no respect for diplomatic niceties?

Sanaki cinched her robe tighter and wandered to the table, where the lamp cast a warm circle of light. Dark chocolates molded into flowers were arranged on a plain china plate with candied rose petals, and beside it a crystal decanter of dark red wine she knew for muscat as soon as she lifted the stopper. She'd never tasted it, though she wanted to, but she remembered the scent from a long time ago - so long ago she couldn't even put an image to it. Perhaps he was fond of it when they lived in Persis. They made it there, on plantations in the north.

She replaced the stopper and stepped back when she heard the door open, biting her knuckle. "I'm sorry, were you expecting someone?"

"Take one," he said, appearing beside her. His hand pressed her forward. "They're for you."

Sanaki reached for a small piece shaped like a hibiscus and pressed it onto her tongue, turning when she pressed her lips closed. It was rich and sweet, with a musky aftertaste. He'd combed his hair and tied it back, put on dry clothes and a pale robe. Her face warmed. "I should have waited, shouldn't I--"

Sephiran laughed and sat down, reached for her hand. "I've never heard you apologize so many times in one visit."

She stuck her tongue out and reached for another piece. "Consider it an honor."

The rain fell harder outside, pounding against the windows, and bits of ice clattered on the stone and cracked against the glass. He reached for an empty glass. "The real gift will be delivered tomorrow morning," Sephiran said, uncapping the wine and pouring half a glass, holding it out to her. "For your birthday--" his eyes flicked aside, "or it will be, in an hour."

"I didn't think you'd really give me any." Sanaki took the glass by the stem and holding it to her nose. It smelled somewhat like grapes - the dark purple kind she admired on the vine when they toured the province. He'd shared it with Zelgius; she remembered that, because the smell of polished armor was also familiar and the muscat was a touch lacking without it, even if that scent was sharp and oily, not at all pleasant. Was this really for her? She sipped, and couldn't tell if it was the scent she tasted, or if it was that sweet.

Sephiran didn't pour any for himself, but capped the decanter and watched her, a sidelong glance. "When you're thirteen, I said." He leaned back and folded his hands. "It's still a bit young, but you need to develop your taste for these things."

"I'm not _that_ young." She rested the glass on the table and chose a chocolate shaped like a leaf. "Your turn." She held it to his lips, and after a long moment and a lift of his eyebrow, he opened his mouth and accepted it. Sanaki smiled. "If you'd had Zelgius in here now, I'd have known exactly what was going on, for instance." He swallowed hard and she giggled, seated herself on his lap, and covered his mouth when he made a noise of protest. "I'm jealous."

"You are most definitely too young for _that_."

"_Oh_?" Sanaki raised her eyebrows. "So it's true?"

Sephiran drew back slightly, color rising in his cheeks. "If I answer that I may incriminate myself."

_Hmmmm_. She fingered the collar of his nightshirt, folding the edge, creasing it with her nails. "Two years."

"Five," he said, "and be glad I don't make it ten."

"_Ten_? Do you want me to be an old maid?" She kicked his leg. "Three."

"Four and a half."

Sanaki sighed sharply. "You're such a stubborn man. I'm not made of glass."

His gaze strayed to the table. She turned to reach for another chocolate, and his hands steadied her. "You are fragile," he said, smoothing the creases in her robe. "Fragile, and difficult to protect." He met her eyes. "When I have to haunt your rooms to make sure Kilvas keeps his hands to himself, I'll think about it."

Sanaki held the chocolate at the edges so it wouldn't melt in her fingers and examined the shape. "It would make your job easier, wouldn't it." She looked up. "Is that a promise?"

The corner of his mouth twitched up. "Men don't keep their promises."

She smiled, tight-lipped, fed him the melty bit of chocolate. "That's fine," she said, and leaned to kiss the smear it left on his lips. "I always keep mine."


End file.
